Loving Observer
by Verunme
Summary: Watching him is something I'll never get tired of. A lover's account on a night with his Hero. Short fic, may someday gain a second chapter.Rated T for implied memory of anatomical parts. Updated a few hours after original release with longer descriptions


Disclaimer : I do not own The Legend of Zelda franchise or anything related to it that isn't merchandise I bought.

Its been a long time isn't it? Seems school is my inspiration, because I've only had blank pages for all the winter vacations, and that idea sprung up in the first math class of the semester.

Finally there, after having written it in the second person (damned guidelines) and thus having to retype all of it at the first one. That means if you see a "you" "your" or any other forgotten second person pronoun, please tell me while reviewing.

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><p>Loving observer<p>

The light from the lantern forgotten on the table spreads itself over the soft sheets of my bed as I walk up to it in the utmost silence. As I reach it, I slow down and smile over the sight that offers itself to my eyes.

There is someone sleeping in that bed, so far lost in his unconscious mind that his mouth hangs slightly open, his cheek buried in the fabric of the pillow. That may have been a rather ungracious sight had it been someone else, but he isn't anyone. He is a hero. He is a part of me. He is the man I've sworn I will never leave. So I can't help but feel my heart melt at the view of his curled, sleeping form, his dark blonde hair beautiful in its messiness as it flows around his head and over his face, his eyes closed over what I know to be azure deeps.

He shifts in his slumber, rolling on his back and stretching his legs. The covers slide to his side, allowing the yellow, comforting light to unveil his bare chest and arms. The twin chiseled arrays of muscles settle on his tummy, letting me admire their perfect shape. I know them, and wonder on how they are so often underestimated. They are not the biggest, but I know of their strength, for they often have lifted me, defended me, or simply held me in a loving embrace.

I take one of his hands, bring it to my lips and softly kiss it as I slip under the covers to join him. His other hand falls down as I sit astride him. As memories flow through my mind, my hand ends up on his heart, where it stays a moment, feeling his beating heart below the tan skin. Slowly, my fingers run down his warm torso. As they reach his navel, I remember how ticklish he is, something I have quickly learned at my expense. I stop, for I do not want to wake him up. He deserves his rest, and I can't bring myself to interrupt it.

Remembering the way, my finger twists around the small recess and starts along the thin strip of hair stretching down to more intimate parts of him, feeling hints of the heat emanating from his body. I know that this rare speck of hair away from his head is also a spot where I won't tickle him. I stop as I reach his boxers, totally aware of what lies underneath them. Removing my hand from him, I watch the flame playing with the shadows of his powerful abdominal muscles. As with his arms, they aren't the most impressive, but it is what makes all their beauty. Delicate, yet chiseled and strong, their sides give off the warmth that heat up my otherwise bare knees that are left to the cold air of our home.

As frigid currents flow around both of us, I see him shiver. Lightly, I remove myself from his so comfortable hips, lying down at his side and pressing my own body against him, trying to warm up my lover. I stretch my hand down, grabbing the covers and bringing them over his body, raising them all the way to his chin.

I can feel his hairless legs brush against my feet as if to stroke them. I swing one of my own legs over both of his while the other makes its way under them, wrapping around him. My left knee left slightly inside his boxer's left opening and my right one next to his own probably makes us look somewhat awkward, but its comfortable

I settle my hand over his heart once more to feel the beat and warmth of it again, and slip my other arm under the pillow and to his side. Setting my chin in his large shoulder and burying my nose in his neck, I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I can't help but notice how the mix of scents fits him perfectly, with hints of wheat and cut grass just as I love it. His scent has the mysterious property of always calming me, touching this special spot in my heart where I keep my fondest memories of him.

Opening my eyes, I caress his cheek, sliding my hand under his strong, bald jaw. It is strong, but not square, its softened angles fitting with the rest of his face. Above it, his straight, thin nose rises firmly against the dimmed light of the lantern of the table, casting a soft shadow on his cute form. Just lower, half lost in the pillow, his pointed ear stood out of his air, the hole were the new red earrings I gave to him last Love's Day could usually be found. He always took them out when going to bed as to not hurt himself but they were the first thing he put back when waking up.

I start fondling with his ear, first brushing my nose against it then picking the tip of it between my lips, not going as far as to bite it though. Sighing in satisfaction at the feel of him against my own nearly naked body, I pull back. As I watch his chest slowly rise and fall and listen to his deep, almost silent breathing, I ponder on what made me lucky enough to have him. He really is the most handsome man Hyrule has ever known.

I stretch my neck and bring my mouth to his, lingering there for a moment, tasting the lower lip I trapped between my own. A taste I know well, and like just as much. His lips are a bit chapped after that tiring, demanding day he had just lived, but I do not care. As I reluctantly fall back, I think about the day to come and smile. Everything is planned and set, it will be perfect. It had to be. His birthday isn't any day.

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><p>I hope you liked it! I made sure to keep it genderless so that both fangirls AND fanboys may like it :P<p>

If you wonder what the ending means, it means I mark it as completed but there may be a follow up if I'm struck in wondrous inspiration.

Leave a review please! I don't mind critiques if they are constructive and not "Kill yourself its so bad" style.


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